Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The Arawen hovered in the airlock as repressurization took place. Once the lights flashed green, the large double doors slid open, and they glided into the docking bay.
Arin was up before they touched down, unstrapping her safety harness and jumping to her feet.
She was edgy. The whole damn flight had made her edgy.
She’d had too much time to herself, and she’d been consumed by thoughts of hypothetical invasions, insects that could survive nuclear blasts, and Kordolians who could cut swathes through squads of seasoned peacekeepers.
Not to mention the damned intelligence people. They wanted her to gather data on the Kordolians.
How the hell was she supposed to do that without putting herself in mortal danger?
Even the friendly ones were killers.
“Good luck, Sergeant.” The captain was a grizzled old veteran called Baraka who had a laconic way about him.
“We’d stick around, but… actually, there’s no way in hell you’d convince me to stick around, even if you paid me half the Dalu stones in the Universe.
You’re a brave lady, Varga.” He peered at his monitors, which provided an overview of the dimly lit loading dock.
Empty cargo containers lined the dock, and large plates of refined Armium metal were scattered across the polished floor. They must have been left behind when the cargo crew had hastily dumped all excess weight just before they’d left Fortuna Tau.
There was no point in trying to move them now; the things probably weighed about a ton each. At least they hadn’t been scattered across the landing pad.
The dock was eerily empty, illuminated only by backup lighting. She hadn’t exactly been expecting a welcoming party, but this was a little bit creepy. Sighing, Arin slung her pack over her shoulder and raised a hand. “See you planetside, boys.”
Baraka and his navigator, a kid called Loic, nodded towards her, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. Arin could guess what they were thinking. They probably half expected her not to return. But she couldn’t afford to think like that. She had every intention of returning to Earth.
“We’ll open the lower hatch when you’re in the exit pod.” Baraka gestured towards Loic. “Kid, go with her and make sure nothing follows her onto our ship.” His expression betrayed his unease. “Take the bolt auto-rifle from the weapons hold and shoot anything with more than two legs.”
“We haven’t found any Xargek on the freighter,” Arin reassured him. The captain was getting a little jumpy. Abandoned, dimly lit loading docks and rumors of flesh-eating alien insects could do that to a soul.
“I’m not taking any chances,” Baraka growled. “Go with her, kid.”
“Got it, Sir.” Loic unfolded his long limbs from the navigator’s seat and shuffled after Arin.
They passed through the main cabin and climbed down a metal ladder that led to the lower levels.
The Arawen was a standard-issue Federation transport vessel.
The interior was spartan but well maintained.
It was the same transport that had been used to retrieve Arin from the freighter and bring her down to Earth to attend the Senate Committee.
Loic disappeared for a few seconds, returning with a long rifle in his hands.
They reached the lower exit pod, passing through a small airlock. Loic glanced around, searching for unseen threats. The exit pod was bathed in harsh white light, in contrast to the shadowy world Arin was about to enter.
Loic looked up at a monitoring camera and gave Baraka the “OK” signal.
“Looks like this is where we leave you, Sergeant.” The captain’s rough voice filtered through a set of hidden speakers.
Arin glanced at the ceiling and nodded. There was a whoosh as the outer doors slid open. Loic stepped back, his gun raised, his eyes darting back and forth as he peered across the empty dock.
A ramp extended from the ship to the floor below. As Arin prepared to exit down the ramp, a shadow appeared in the corner of her vision.
She swore, dropping her pack and reaching inside her jacket for her bolt-pistol. The shadow turned into a dark blur, whipping past her in a rush of cold air. Loic cried out in alarm as Arin spun, raising her gun. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth went dry.
It all happened too quickly.
One minute, she was about to step off the Arawen and into a deserted docking bay. The next minute, she was standing face-to-face with her favorite nightmare.
“Hello, Arin.” Rykal smiled, his pearly white fangs gleaming in the bright light. Loic’s bolt rifle was in his hands. The navigator had backed off into the corner, his eyes wide with terror.
“Rykal,” Arin snapped, exasperation creeping into her voice as she struggled to control her rapidly beating heart. Where the hell had he come from? “What are you doing?”
Loic was staring at her as if she were barking mad.
Rykal’s smile widened. How he managed to be the perfect combination of friendly and menacing was beyond her.
“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.
” His golden eyes roamed over her figure, and Arin resisted the urge to zip up her leather flight jacket.
How dare he check her out so insolently, so blatantly, as if this were some kind of intimate liaison?
Arin settled for pointing her gun at his head.
It gave her a false sense of control, even though she knew he could probably disarm her in the blink of an eye.
Heat rose under her collar, and Arin was grateful for the modified military-issue Syntech suit she wore underneath her jacket.
It covered her from neck to toe and was specifically tailored to her biometrics.
She much preferred it to the bulky peacekeeper armor she usually wore, especially on long flights from Earth to space.
“Maybe I’d be happier to see you if you greeted me normally, instead of staging an ambush.”
“Ah.” Rykal lowered the stolen bolt rifle.
It hung lazily in his hand as his expression turned serious.
“Please understand that if an unknown vessel enters my domain, I have to run a full check. You’d be surprised at what we find onboard some ships.
Besides, if the Federation has been kind enough to send us a vessel with atmospheric re-entry capabilities, then we have to take advantage of that, don’t we? You would do the same thing, Sergeant.”
Arin returned Rykal’s molten stare with a cold look. She could see the logic in his reasoning, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him.
“I-I thought you’d agreed to let us go,” Loic blurted, appearing crestfallen. “Just like last time.”
Rykal turned, raising a pale eyebrow. “Nothing in the Universe is guaranteed, human. Last time, you were taking Arin to Earth for a little visit. Now that she’s back, there’s no reason for me to allow you to leave.”
Loic stared up at the ceiling. “You hear that, Baraka?”
In response, the doors began to slide closed. Rykal raised the bolt rifle, aiming at Loic’s head. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes traveling in the same direction as Loic’s. “Whatever you’re contemplating, I wouldn’t,” he warned.
Baraka would have received that message loud and clear.
The metal doors shuddered to a halt, leaving a narrow person-sized gap.
“So what’s the plan, Rykal?” Arin’s tone was frosty and completely at odds with how she felt inside.
It wasn’t just fear. She’d seen enough of Rykal to know that he wasn’t an indiscriminate killer.
Unlike the rumors she’d heard about Kordolians, he wasn’t unhinged or needlessly cruel or sadistic.
He could be ruthless and coldly pragmatic underneath that deceptively playful demeanor, but he posed no danger to her.
A few misguided members of her squad had tried to kill him. That’s why they’d ended up dead, the poor souls.
“We’re going to wait to hear from your leaders,” Rykal informed her. “When they understand that they have no choice in the matter, we will go down there and hunt. In the meantime, I’m commissioning this transport.”
“You’re not to harm the captain or his navigator,” Arin growled. She’d resigned herself to the fact that Rykal wasn’t letting this one get away.
Rykal managed to look slightly offended. “Of course not.” Again, he lowered the bolt rifle, sparing poor Loic, who had turned pale, his skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat.
Rykal managed to look so perfectly innocent and affronted that Arin was overtaken by a strange urge to laugh.
This damn alien was confusing her.
Her eyes wandered. She couldn’t help it.
Rykal’s stance was relaxed; he appeared at ease despite the fact that a high-powered bolt rifle dangled from one of his hands.
Arin took stock of the various weapons adorning his muscular frame, noting the long sword sheathed at his back and the two plasma guns strapped to his sides.
Complementing these were numerous small blades, ranging in size from small throwing knives no longer than her hand to a large dagger that Arin knew had a vicious serrated edge.
She knew, because she’d seen him in action, slaughtering Xargek with fierce and savage precision as she directed the workers of Fortuna Tau to safety.
Fuck it. If he was going to stare, then she would stare back. Her eyes traveled up his body, taking in his honed figure. That exo-armor of his was a remarkable thing, molding to his body like a thick second skin, leaving little to the imagination.
Like all of the Kordolian warriors, Rykal was lean and sculpted, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He moved with graceful economy and deadly silence, and even though Arin had seen him single-handedly take down a fully grown Xargek with just that long Callidum blade of his, she suspected she didn’t know half of what he was truly capable of.
Scary, scary creature that he was.
Their eyes met, and Arin couldn’t help but notice that he had very long, very pretty eyelashes. They were the color of winter snow in the moonlight, and they framed eyes of brilliant gold.
Arin’s heart thudded against her ribcage, but her gun hand never wavered.
She was stuck in an exit pod with a scared young navigator and a lethal warrior from the other side of the Universe who was too damn pretty for his own good.
Who had just killed seven of her people.
Who had a face that was straight out of some fanciful ancient Earth fantasy tale. He was nothing short of exquisite. In another reality, he could have been mistaken for a dark elf or one of the fae-folk.
Looks could be deceiving. Arin tried to picture Rykal decapitating her man, Harris.
Why was that so hard for her to imagine?
“We need to talk,” she said, meeting his golden stare. “In private.” She had things to discuss with Rykal, but she didn’t want to talk about them here. The last thing she needed was for Loic to freak out and report her to the Federation.
The kid looked at her with wide eyes, as if she were a madwoman juggling fission grenades.
Rykal’s smile returned, and this time the menace was diluted with unexpected warmth. “Oh yes, we do need to talk in private. Let me just organize these humans and search their vessel. Then I’m all yours, Sergeant.”
That’s when Baraka came barreling down the corridor, brandishing a fucking rocket launcher of all things.
“Get the hell off my ship, Kordolian,” he snarled. “Or I’ll blow you to bits.”
“Not this again,” Rykal groaned, as a resigned expression crossed his elegant features.
“Put it down, Baraka,” Arin said evenly, keeping her gun trained on Rykal. “What do you really think you’re going to achieve by setting that thing off in here? You want all of us to die?”